


The Bard's Bones.

by thisismybrainrain



Series: centuries of brooding and blood [23]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Carmilla (Web Series)
Genre: "Ripper" Rupert Giles, Brotp, Motorcycles, Other, References to Shakespeare
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-07
Updated: 2016-01-07
Packaged: 2018-05-12 10:42:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5663314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisismybrainrain/pseuds/thisismybrainrain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>carmilla and giles go on a motorcycle trip to stratford-upon-avon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Bard's Bones.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skeletonannie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skeletonannie/gifts).



Carmilla kicked the 1925 Brough Superior SS100 Motorcycle stand off of the floor and leaned into the motion as she revved in into life. This was one of the skills she’d kept up quietly. It was one of her and Ripper’s favourite past times.

Since the 1970s in London, they’d made a pact between them to never let the skill die. So they had not. She’d located and treated them to two of the Brough Superior models as soon as they’d got back into England. She’d been saving a stash of money for this very occasion since that bar fight in the 1970s. 

The original jackets that her and Ripper had worn in those days had become too flimsy and weak to make the ride. So Giles had bought them both jackets as a thank you for all of her help over the years and, as a celebration that they finally had this break in the chaos to live out this dream: riding to Stratford-upon-avon. 

The Schott black motorcycle jacket he’d given Carmilla had the Keats poem La Belle Dame Sans Merci stitched into its lining and the Brown cream cuffed pilot style motorcycle jacket he’d bought for himself had something stitched into the lining that he’d refused to show Carmilla until they reached the Bard’s Arm pub in Shakespeare’s town. 

Today, the air was clear as the sun rose over the distant hills, Giles drew up beside her and asked, ‘Ready, darling?’

She revved the bike again in answer before turning away from him to place her goggles over her eyes and she leaned forward as the bike rumbled into motion and she slid the wheels of the bike onto the slope and replied, ‘Let’s go, Ripper. William’s bones are waiting for us.’ 

He followed suit and placed his prescription goggles on his face and rode off after her. The road was quiet as the village creaked into life. They passed the local milkman, ‘Morning, Rupert!’ He shouted, waving - only a blur as they passed. 

Giles reached and beeped his horn in response. They slowed at the junction and then out onto the tarmac between the valley of the hills. The roads were open and bare, only the distant beeping of cars. No hustle of week day commuting of the sleepy bank holiday rest having villager’s tucked up in their beds. Giles watch read 4:50am. 

Giles smiled to himself. Carmilla had been right, suggesting the early start. The wind against the edges of hair was all the more satisfying when he had no traffic jams to worry about, only the road, what his first ale was going to be and how he was going to confess to Carmilla that the panel sewn into his £900 leather motorcycle jacket was a extract from The Well of Loneliness which she had always loved to tease him about.

**Author's Note:**

> If you haven't been to stratford upon avon do go - it's amazing.
> 
> brough superior motorcycles are beautiful bikes.  
> I have no riding experience this is just a head canon that i wanted to indulge. 
> 
> this reference's the poem called 'bars of london' that i wrote as part of this series. 
> 
> thank you to cole.


End file.
